Then There Was You
by Little Inquisitor
Summary: No one can actually choose who they fall for, or when they fall, or even how they fall; that is something that's discovered by two completely different people in a rather normal world. But despite such normality, feelings are bound to surface and maybe... just maybe... the stories of a photographer and a doctor were supposed to be intertwined all along.
1. Everything Was Fine The Way It Was

**A/N:** Oh gosh, how long has it been since I last wrote for this fandom? Four years? I kid you not, I was reading through my old fics and I was just... cringing. Anyhow! So I got back into Bleach a couple months ago, though it wasn't a few nights ago did I think of some stupid normal!AU plot to which I'm hoping I'd actually get to finish this time, all the while for you guys to enjoy! I'm not going to reveal the exact plot of this fic of mine, but I assure you... there'll be a few surprises here and there as familiar characters come into view. For now, have this introductory chapter that was wonderfully beta'd by an amazing person who I was lucky enough to converse with last week! Thank you, Adi, for giving me the honour to have you as my beta reader!

And as always, **I do not own Bleach nor its characters**. Only thing that I did create is the storyline of this fic. So...

* * *

 **Everything Was Fine The Way It Was**

It was during one of the mid-spring days when she had first caught a glimpse of such hair; a loose thought of its vibrancy running around and about her mind the instant she took notice of it through the lens of her camera.

It was a strange sight at first, having to take a moment to pause as her wide eyes followed the walking man across the crowd-filled path of the park. Out of everyone there, it was to no surprise that he had been the one to catch her attention.

Seriously though, what was with _that_ hair?

With a purse of her lips and a low whistle released through, the photographer fixed her bent posture and stood with an aura of a noble seeping out of her as she allowed the camera held in hand to gradually fall to her side. There was a furrow in between her brows, one that made her seem to be lost in thought if a bystander were to take a second of a glance towards her.

But no, she was not lost in thought... yet.

She was merely on the surface of thinking.

It was then when a zephyr flew by, pulling her out of the depths of her wonders that she had unknowingly found herself in, all due to a single appearance of the _orange coloured hair_ (seriously, it was so orange to the extent where she began to question the possibility of its natural existence - if it was even natural in the first place). And upon returning to the face of reality, a sigh took its time on leaving her and somehow, her chest became noticeably lighter than it had been several seconds before.

Funny, she never even took note of the fact that there was a heavy weight within in the first place.

"All right," Two words were whispered beneath her breath as the viewfinder was met with an eye of purple once again, "one more shot."

* * *

Was he going to be late?

Definitely not, for a doctor of his reputation should never aim to be late to a _very important meeting_. And with that said, he still had five minutes on the clock to get to the restaurant.

A good five minutes to get there without any hazardous incidents or any other situation that would force him to walk in the midst of it all, apologise, and then explain why in the world he hadn't made it on time.

So with that kept in mind, long legs strode through the park to which he had sort of wished wasn't so crowded. Though despite such want, it had been the way closest to his destination, so small sacrifices were in order for the sake of his dignity and perhaps even sanity.

Kids came running by with a loud fit of giggles and laughter alongside taunts and warnings leaving their throats and lungs without much care for those around them. Then there were also other individuals like him who seemed to have been in a rush, a few muttering sharp toned words into the phones that they held against their ear as a sense of intimidation was conveyed through the serious looks on their faces and the clicks of their footwear against the pavement.

And if he had suddenly gained the point of view of an outsider, he'd also know that he was definitely one of them with that old, mean scowl plastered on his own strong features and the same clicking of shoes. Only thing differentiating him with the rest of these busy bees was the hair that stood on top of his head in all sorts of corners and angles. However, it was quite an amazement on how he still managed to pull off the professional look and it was no secret to those who knew him that in spite of the natural colour, the man still caught some form of attraction from... well, others.

A few of them unwanted, but that goes unsaid unless desperation was bound to explode right in front of them.

Several more steps taken and it wasn't long until he saw the huge familiar signage of the restaurant's label, one that was reflecting the light of the sun rather brightly. And even from the distance he was quickly closing, large windows gave a perfect view of its well-designed interior that had actually matched the walls of its exterior as well.

If he was one to give ratings on the appearances of locations, he'd definitely describe the restaurant as aesthetically pleasing.

The food, on the other hand? Unsurprisingly, the courses in the menu all tasted exquisite and expensive in reflection of the standards that the restaurant's architectural design brought; their tastes kept in memory for future referencing.

Anyhow, as he continued on with the rush to get through those doors across the wide road, a vibration was felt through the fabric of his pants' pocket. Without hesitancy, the phone was swiftly pulled out, only to find the notification of a message staring right back at him. If it were any other time, he would reply to the question sent, but what was the use of doing such when he was all ready less than twenty metres away?

Then out of nowhere, a shout and a pull on the open pocket of his flowing blazer had him moving back rather uncharacteristically. It was then when his attention snapped up, a car speeding across right in front of him with barely two inches of a distance. There was a sharp intake of breath as it happened, his world slowing down right there and then.

If he were in a movie, it would have been like one of those scenes captured in an exaggerated close up and special slowing effects.

Eyes blinked, yet all nerves were paralysed as of that moment. His thoughts moved towards the patients that he had handled and treated due to incidents that were all too similar to the one he would've been in if he had simply moved along - heck, if no one had pulled him back in the unforgettable timely manner.

A quiet curse was heard from him, and suddenly, the secured grasp of two arms around his waist tightened. He glanced down at the feeling, taking note of the small hands; one in comparison with the camera that it held against him. The warmth meeting with his back began to spread too, and after judging whether it was a face or a cheek that he could feel, he calculated that the person who had unexpectedly saved his life was... a kid?

"Honestly," A voice broke through the silence that coated them after the near mishap, one he had assumed belonged to his 'saviour' in perception of the movement behind him, "Don't you think it's a little stupid to look at your phone as you're crossing the street?"

The stranger was definitely reprimanding him and just as he was about to throw something to retort the words of disapproval as they had finally let go of their hold on him, finding out _who_ they were was what stopped his response to the rhetorical question.

He had turned on his heel once the feeling of it came back, prepared to thank the kid and perhaps even say something sarcastic. But what stood before him definitely did not match the image he conjured in his head mere seconds ago.

The supposed _kid_ was a _woman_ no more than four-foot-nine tall.

There was something in her gaze as she stared at him, almost scrutinizing to the extent where he felt as if he was an experiment being observed and noted.

Which was strange in consideration of the fact that he was the doctor who usually did those things, minus the experimentation.

"—Right, thank you," Was all he said, a clearing of his throat following afterwards out of slight embarrassment. After all, it wasn't everyday one was to experience being saved by a woman who was much smaller than you. Or maybe it was because he had been the one to, as she said, use his phone as he crossed the street. And when it was said like that, the idea did actually sound like pure idiocy.

An adjective that may have described him perfectly that instant.

There was the sound of a chuckle from the other, her eyes glancing down at their feet as ease fell upon her gentle smile. He blinked at the sight, blankness distorting his usual organised thoughts for the first time after who knew how long. Then in a gradual motion, purple hues were brought back to those of amber, a twinkle lying within.

"Well, I guess that as long as you've learned your lesson... no need to thank me," A hint of humour had been weaved into her words, sounding ever so casual as if they had conversed before, "just need to be more careful next time, is what I'm saying,"

"Don't worry, I got it. Pretty sure getting hit by a car is the last thing on my bucket list after seeing almost everything that happens to the human body when it gets caught in the accident," His return of the reply was of an equal tone as hers as a corner of his own lips lifted upwards in emphasis of the dimple that deepened into the hollow of his cheek. His hand had also reached for the nape of his neck, which soon moved to the back of his head as he lightly scratched the scalp beneath that orange.

Hang on, wasn't he supposed to be heading somewhere?

A single vibration of his phone and the question was immediately answered.

 **It's rude to keep your fiancée waiting, Ichigo.**

Right, important meeting; family lunch; restaurant.

A glance at the time and the entire concept of having a good five minutes was more than gone much to his dislike. And so, the scowl came back.

* * *

From afar, the man's appearance hadn't meant much; all was normal with every feature in their proper places.

At least, that's what she could tell when he first appeared out of nowhere as she attempted to get a nice photograph of the view.

Although the second she got up close (and personal, but that was unintentional, mind you), it entirely became a different story.

He was tall — yes, everyone was taller than her, but he was _tall —_ and if she could dare say so herself, perhaps even handsome.

At that thought, there was a twinge of pain that had crawled its way beneath her skin and into the ways of her heart. There was a moment of a pause, her mouth agape and eyes steady on the familiarity of his amber irises, nose, and lips. Seconds passed and the feeling tugged on the corners of her mind, as if it were calling for a memory that had been long tucked away into a locked chest.

Truth be told, she very much preferred if it could be kept that way.

Words were exchanged and out of the dark she came, a small smile showing itself to push back that demanding emotion she most certainly did not have time for, nor would she ever.

"Don't worry, I got it. Pretty sure getting hit by a car is the last thing on my bucket list after seeing almost everything that happens to the human body when it gets caught in the accident," A return of her own humour and all was light. Albeit small, the smile that he had would have done wonders to an artist's creativity for it certainly did something to her own sense of imagery as a long time photographer.

And yet, he did not seem fit to be a model.

Peddling back to his reply, she immediately began to think of his occupation, taking note of the way he spoke and what was said.

 _After seeing almost everything that happens to the human body when it gets caught in the accident_.

A doctor of some sort, maybe?

"There goes being on time," And away the smile went, but back the scowl came after a comfortable form of silence was broken by what she assumed to be a message. Gesturing to his phone, the almost-killed-but-not-killed stranger let out a final wave, "Thanks for saving my life again. You know, for a woman your size, you're actually pretty strong to have been able to pull me out of the way like that."

A woman of her size?

 **A woman of her size?**

Just who the hell did he think he was referring to?

Sure, she was **short** , though that certainly did not mean she was **small** and **incapable** of doing things that was stereotypically given to those who were bigger than her.

And besides that fact, she was first and foremost a _**Kuchiki**_.

"Hey, you can't just say that —" God knows she had all the might to finish her sentence, but the man had turned his back to her and for the other side of the road he went, attention quickly shifting to the device that would have caused his death in the first place.

"If you're going to be rude by crossing the road while I'm talking, at least put your phone away before signing your death warrant, you fool!"

In the end, that had earned her a simple laugh. She certainly hadn't expected him to be listening, but he was and a loud apology was soon heard as the phone went back into his pocket.

Through the double doors of a restaurant she watched him go through, and for the second time within the span of ten minutes, a sigh was released.


	2. Just Me, My Thoughts, And I

**A/N:** So truth be told, this chapter would have been out earlier if microsoft didn't corrupt the original file that had 500 words and a bit. c: But nevertheless, it's here! Again, thank you to Adi for being my wonderful beta and giving me them amazing positive vibes! Aaaaah! Such an honour to have her as my beta, I swear! And as always, I do not own Bleach nor its characters. I do, however, own the storyline of this fanfic.

* * *

 **Just Me, My Thoughts, And I**

Within a day, twenty-four hours lay bare before an individual's grasp. And within those hours, anything was bound to happen outside of their own average routine – not always, though sometimes they don't even actually notice the turning point in their story until its consequences are played out.

Butterfly effect, this is commonly referred to as; the concept of where small decisions or happenings can lead to a rather huge plot that nobody ever expected. It is also an idea that had one Kuchiki Rukia laughing to herself whenever the topic of it was brought up amongst her friends, all the while as they gave her odd looks.

"I don't know, Rukia," One of them would start, "I feel like it's a serious thing. Like what if you go to a coffee store and accidentally take an order that isn't yours but actually belongs to the man you're meant for, who then ends up having to chase you down the street and that's when sparks fly," A pause, "See? Even the simple act of taking a cup of coffee can lead to you being bound to some guy for the rest of your life."

At the reminiscence of the conversation that took place in that very same studio the night before – the room filled with a variety of lighting equipment, backdrops, and several furniture that were placed here and there – a small hum vibrated in between the walls of her throat. Sure, her face may have been plastered in front of the bigger screen of her dual-monitored computer, but it would have been an overstatement to say that the entirety of her attention was given to the endless amount of pictures she took that month.

Truth be told, ninety percent of her mind pranced around the example that had been given to her in order to convey a better set of imagery for the notion of the butterfly effect.

Although don't get her wrong, she found the idea fascinating and a bit of research had been done before due to a certain interest that lasted for no more than two days. The only thing that truly bothered her was the fact that ever since it came to the knowledge of her friends, they've all been more than paranoid about their decision making. Perhaps she was too, but only with the ones to which she knew would truly affect the future that was waiting to be lived through.

For instance, the decision of which photo she was to submit for the photography exhibition held in eight months time at one of the well known art galleries in Tokyo.

See? The single action of choosing whichever photo could eventually lead her to having her name placed in the Tokyo Metropolitan Museum of Photography or to another 'better luck next year's.

A release of a heavy breath and down came the walls momentarily.

And so did her forehead as it met with the small, cool space that the keyboard hadn't taken up.

She was stepping on the line of frustration, a lack of self-worth tracing her inner being with every single day that went by, with every single shot and yet none of them had that factor that would captivate and motivate those who would be coming to the final decision on whether her style was worth it or not.

Why did she choose this line of work again?

Because the one that had been completely planned out for her by the clan was barely her.

Then with that reminder, the photographer finally mustered enough will to lift her head from the supposed shadow of degradation and continue on with the thing that she had been doing since six in the morning.

Which was really just an hour ago.

Photo by photo she saw judgement hanging by a thin thread. There were a few she stared at, and a few she immediately just nope'd through; a few creative ideas she remembered doing, and a few she wished never existed.

And then it came.

The one she took merely three days ago at the park.

It was a simple shot at first, nothing seemingly out of the ordinary until her eye caught that orange haired fool once again amidst a number of other people.

The shutter speed of the shot had been no more than one five-hundredth of a second, capturing the perfect stilled bodies of those in the frame. And somehow, even with the sea of people that were in it, he still managed to be the centre of it all.

Him with his tall (and lean build, but she tried not to think about that) form and peculiar hair.

Him with his focused scowl and the flaps of his blazer jacket flowing back as the spring breeze flew by.

She examined the photo with a narrowed gaze, minutes ticking by without her knowledge as a colouring scheme and several blending options formed in her thoughts. It wasn't anything special, nor was it anything new. However, it was something, and everyone knew how that was always better than nothing.

Pulling out the pad of sticky notes that she had neatly placed in the stationary section by the corner of her desk, and a Chappy themed pen alongside it, Rukia quickly scribbled down her idea into three separate points: the labels of the pictures she was to use in one and the questionable layout for the other two. Then with a quick glance at the time on the bottom right corner of the screen, she rolled her neck into comfort, a sound of contentment leaving her lips.

It was definitely time to buy a cup of coffee.

* * *

In a morning that was far too early for a Saturday, Ichigo was all but awake the instant he was met by the warm April air outside of his apartment building, even as he stepped into the essence of coffee and caffeine in the café around the corner after taking a short stroll in hopes to actual clear all grogginess away.

Why he was up and about at such an hour was a question left unanswered for the past ten years, ever since he had left the comforts of Karakura Town to finish his educational means in one of the prestigious public universities in Japan.

They were long years, consisting of endless hours and days to which all somewhat paid off in one way or another.

But then... all he really wished for was the ability to be able to sleep in during days like that one Saturday.

He had spent the week making rounds between two hospitals, finishing off files and paperwork in the office between the hours no child needed his attention. Fortunately enough, the cold weathered season had come to a pass, lessening the children who dropped by because of stuffed noses, heavy chests, and body temperatures that rose above the normality of thirty-seven degrees Celsius.

In other words, it was a week no different than those he had since becoming a full pledged paediatrician.

On the other hand, there _was_ that near death occurrence three days before.

He almost froze at the remembrance, mind quickly wandering to the petite woman who was unexpectedly the reason as to why he was still able to thoroughly wash his hands in the bathroom of the coffee store.

With her appearance mostly gone from the depths of his memories, it was a surprise to him that he could even actually recall the stranger's wide, violet eyes, staring at him with that unyielding gaze of hers. His own brows furrowed at the image, knowing how strange it was for him to remember such an aspect when he was one of those whose skills in the memorisation of people, let alone names, weren't quite the best.

Hell, it was worse during his teenage years when he couldn't even remember his own classmates.

 _Silence._

His mere reflection staring into his own soul, searching for the missing part within that still remained unknown to himself.

It were minutes before he was snapped out of the brooding, the callout for his coffee order reaching him from the other side of the door. With one final sharp release of a heavy breath through his nose, out of the bathroom and straight to the counter he went; ready to grab the cup with his name and leave.

But how was he supposed to do that when his named hadn't been the one written on the only cup that was ready for pick-up?

 _ **RUKIA.**_

The five lettered name with three syllables caused the small frown that bent those thin lips of his, confusion shown all over his face.

 _That_ was certainly not his.

And so, he looked behind him just in case, and around the slightly crowding store for this _Rukia_ person. But when none came forward to claim the cup, he turned back to the server and said, "Excuse me," He waited to gain their attention, "Earlier I thought I heard my order ready, but it's not here? So I was just wondering if I misheard it or something."

Immediately, the worker took note of the cooling coffee before them as Ichigo spun it around to reveal the boldly written _**Rukia**_. Then after a loud second of realisation, they replied with, "The short girl with the light blue jacket that walked out just a minute ago probably took yours. She should still be nearby if she's taking her time and paying attention to the details of the street for her... photographic reasons."

The answer had been enough and the possibility of the situation was something he could not deny. Still, the doctor could not help but wonder as to how in the world she even thought that his cup was hers with the obvious size difference.

Her order was a small rather than a large like his.

With the matter solved and a word of thanks said, Ichigo took the remaining cup and ran out, all the while being conscious of the chance of receiving a burn if he's not careful with his handle on it.

A glance to his left, then a glance to his right and there she was.

The server wasn't wrong; the woman had definitely been taking her time with her unhurried paced steps as her interests were seemingly placed upon the abandoned building across the road.

"For 'photographic reasons', that's right," Words were repeated quietly, as if in understanding of the coffee stealer's observant look.

But that wasn't the only thing there was to her as a sense of familiarity gradually made itself known the longer he stared.

What had once started out as a run soon turned into a jog, until it eventually slowed to a walk. He kept a short distance behind her, unknowingly enjoying the silence he had somehow entered from what was supposed to be a 'hey, can I have my coffee back' moment. There was simply an atmosphere around her, an indescribable sort that should be gnawing at the corners of his mind and yet it wasn't.

Strange.

"Is there a reason as to why you're following me?"

A spoken question and a halt made, a memorable warmth returning across the skin of his back all over again the instant the woman in front turned to confront him for his stalking reasons.

Violet met with amber.

* * *

Upon coming face to face, it was safe to say that both were quite in a surprise in judgement of the sudden change of expressions and demeanours. A blanket of stillness had been laid over them and if the situation was anymore of a shock, the cups of warm liquid held by both individuals would have been dropped, or at least spilled as they weren't ones to lose control of their actions for trivial things.

Was the situation trivial though?

"Oh," She started after a few seconds of merely blinking, "It's _you_ – the idiot who almost got hit by a car because he decided it was a great idea to look at his phone while he was crossing."

And there went the peacefulness between them.

"Hey, I already apologised for it and thanked you, there's no point in bringing it up again," He retorted.

A folding of her arms just below her chest and a smug look suddenly appeared on the woman's features, "You _thanked_ me, but did not apologise."

The iconic scowl returned, but the smirk on Rukia's face did not waver one bit. However, a moment like that could not last as a question remained on the tip of her tongue, itching to be asked the second she felt his presence behind her.

"Anyway, why are you following me? How'd you even find me in the first place? Never saw you as the stalker type three days ago."

As an answer to her queries, Ichigo nodded towards the large cup in her right hand and lifted the smaller one in his at the same time, thinking that she'd get the idea before he had to say anything. But when her reaction remained unamused, a short huff left him as eyes dropped to the ground for no more than a second.

Then lifting them back up to see her pointed look that was filled with confusion and the need for him to elaborate with his reasoning, he said, "You took my cup instead of yours," Gesturing to his coffee again, he continued, "Can't believe you haven't noticed how big mine is compared to yours. Plus, I'm pretty sure your name isn't _Ichigo_."

That was when her gaze widened, falling to the unusually sized cup that he had been holding all that time. Then just as thin brows knitted together, she turned the one that she had since the start and saw a name that was indeed not hers.

 _Blink._

 _Blink._

 _Blink._

A mistake.

A mistake was made by her and she had not realised it until someone pointed it out.

It wasn't even eight in the morning and she was already feeling embarrassed over a simple mistake as such. Now most people would brush it off, return the cup and go on with their merry ways. But this was Rukia, the adopted younger sister of the head of the Kuchiki clan, and having a fault like that was nearly unacceptable in her very own being.

And for it to involve the stranger from the other day, the stranger whom she described as an idiot twice in one week, the situation in hand was barely calling to be taken lightly.

 _Inhale._

 _Exhale._

 _Smile._

A sweetened smile suddenly appeared on her lips and with no hesitancy, Ichigo deemed it to be unsuitable for her.

It was faked, forced, and just overall wrong. Why did he care, however? He's not sure, but he just did.

In fact, a chill crawled up his spine at the sight of it and he could have sworn that if he did not know better, he would have been on his knees or at least feel rather extremely threatened. And as if someone had flicked an on switch somewhere around them, the casual mien of the other had more or less transformed into that strict form of a noble princess.

He wasn't dealing with an unknown princess, right?

Even the way she walked towards him screamed for him to run. And maybe he should have instead of standing his ground for the sake of his manly pride. But if worst came to worse, at least there was someone out there who knew his last whereabouts.

He quietly placed his trust onto the server to do him justice if an investigation for his death was to be ever brought up.

She then stopped right in front of him much to his silenced fear, her head having to tilt up just for him to see the exact coldness that laid beneath the supposed warm eyes. His breath stilled, awaiting for her to explode.

But she didn't.

"I'll be taking this," Using that moment of apprehension, Rukia nonchalantly took her cup from his grasp and replaced it his original order that she mistakenly had. It was a fast switch, a sip from her drink taken the instant she got hold of it in confidence that the man did not do any of the sort before she did.

Besides, if he did, he would have found out just how sweet she liked her coffee to be.

Then with no further ado but a quick dip of her head, she turned on her heel just as he had during their initial meeting and sauntered away.

Just like that, she was ready to forget about the entire situation.

But of course he wasn't.

"Hey! You're just going to walk off without thanking me?!" And so his problem was out without it first going through the filters of his reasonable sense, just like it always did during the era of his youth. Nevertheless, he ignored the return of trait that was believed to be dormant after growing and maturing throughout the years and continued on with his small but very much needed to be said speech.

"Isn't that rude? Especially considering how I was bothered to even actually chase after you just so you could have it."

Rukia stopped with a hint of a drop to her shoulders as the thick air surrounding them gradually dispersed. She remained to herself, neither a glance nor a step towards him made after the comment about her insolence and his efforts was acknowledged.

Although, she did speak after what felt like quite a while.

"You're right."

Two simple words, and yet they were enough to break the tough character that Ichigo had so purposefully worn in case she wasn't going to give him what he wanted. So there he stood, nearly as dumbfounded as he had been when he first found out that she was... well, _her;_ in reference to both of their meetings, nonetheless.

"I... apologise, for my 'rudeness'," Then she faced him, somewhat avoiding his stare of earnest, "And thank you for bringing my coffee to me. I know you didn't have to, but–"

"That's enough."

Okay, did he have a habit of interrupting people in the middle of their sentence, or was he just really doing out of fun?

She was actually having a moment of genuineness there!

"... What?"

With his free hand, Ichigo casually ran his fingers through his hair from front to back until he subconsciously began to lightly scratch the exposed skin at the nape of his neck. It was his turn to avoid the strong gaze that she held against him, though he wasn't exactly squirming beneath it either. Was he uncomfortable? Perhaps. Why? Most likely because he's never been in a position to essentially listen to one's apology like hers.

Actually, there was one other person, but he still considered it different.

"The first two sentences were enough, so there's no use going in deeper," He dropped his hand into the pocket of his thin jacket, "So with that said, as long as you acknowledged your mistakes, there's really no need to thank me. Besides, I guess this makes us even now?"

Another minute of complete silence and it was Rukia's turn to be speechless.

A mixture of emotions bubbled within her; all ranging from confusion to annoyance and maybe even breaching the boundaries of anger. But even so, what reflected to her exterior was the mere expression of wide eyes, furrowed brows, and a mouth agape with a small sound managing to make its way out from her throat.

It was at that point in time when two young women thought it was a great idea to walk past them with hushed whispers going back and forth in between. Nearing Ichigo's side, they shot an ogling look towards him, only to receive the end of what was seen as a glare that resulted for their steps to be quickened. In truth, it wasn't even an actual 'glare', though rather a pair of narrowed eyes that only mirrored Rukia's perplexed state.

"Seriously," It was Rukia who spoke, not a single change to her sharp outlook, "You call me out for not recognising the fact that I took the wrong cup earlier, and then call me rude for not thanking you. Now you're telling me that there's no need for me to do that?" She scoffed, breaking her stare, "You're really something, you know that?"

Ichigo shrugged, "I mean if you really want to thank me, then you're welcome. But I was really just actually checking if you had any manners... or at least what's close to one."

Was he trying to push her buttons? Because if that was his purpose for his snappy behaviour, then no doubt was he actually succeeding.

Not that she was going to let him see through his success.

Although he then continued, "I'm just kidding, no need to get so worked up about it," And there it was again, the dimple digging into his cheek that may have given him the chance to become a model if an agency was to ever see him, "So what is it about the building that you find so interesting?"

A change of subject to divert her intense attention and she actually fell for it.

"What building?"

"The abandoned building," A look to his left and she caught on.

"Ah, _that_ building... it's nothing."

"If it's nothing, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have been staring at it so intently while you were walking past."

"And how long were you observing me for, exactly?"

Cat caught his tongue.

Unexpectedly, she chuckled, a noise Ichigo found quite rich in all honesty.

It was barely feminine, none of that high pitched giggles he could not find attractive to save his life. And even as she did so, there was no batting of her eyelashes, nor was there a movement of her hand to hide the lower half of her face. All in all, it was just... natural, unlike the smile that she had shown earlier.

"I just thought it would be a great place to hold a photo shoot in," She followed his line of gaze towards the location of their topic and out came the lines of wonder on her features.

"So you're a photographer?"

"Mm."

"Is it your hobby or?"

"Aren't you asking a lot of questions for someone who I just met?"

"Right, sorry."

Nevertheless, in spite of her factual complaint, she still answered him.

"It's my profession. Every now and then I have sessions for my own liking, other days clients hire me to make them look pretty after a long time of nagging on how they can't afford the prices. And yet in the end, a lot of them actually can once they realise that the money's worth is pretty reasonable."

"That doesn't sound like anything I've seen in the movies," Ichigo commented, just as though he was in disbelief of what he had personally heard.

"And what about your line of work? Is it like what they show in films?"

"Being a doctor?" With the contemplation of his answer, the man gradually nodded his head, "But a paediatrician specifically? Have they even shown paediatricians in the media?"

For having such a mean introduction that morning, it was utterly absurd to see the two thinking about a common aspect in everyday life. After all, it was a conversation that both expected to be kept short, more so then since they had their respective coffees. But like always, it seemed like the universe had different plans as there they were, standing in front of an old building in thoughts of whether the life of a children's doctor had been seen through the big screens.

Who knew that the mistake of taking someone else's drink would lead two people to that certain point?

"I don't... think so," Rukia finally replied, uncertainty lying within.

"Well, don't I feel special?" Ichigo's voice should have been dripping filthy with sarcasm, which should have also been followed by a heavy roll of his eyes. Instead, he simply laughed to himself, an act returned for the one she had given him earlier until mirth was left behind. "Say, I'm about to head to this nice garden now and I may not have the 'eye of a photographer' or whatever they call it, but it does look pretty beautiful around this season – you know, with all the cherry blossoms blooming and falling everywhere," A clearing of his throat as he tried to figure where he wanted to head with his words, "And since we're already on the topic of photography, I guess I'm just wondering if you'd want to see for yourself and I don't know... maybe get some ideas for a few shots?"

A breeze, but no reply.

Maybe he shouldn't have said it, maybe he should have just left it right there and then. Though it wasn't like he was asking her out (oh no, that wasn't even in his mind _at all_ ), so it was not like he was going to feel bad for the rest of day. Overall, it just sounded as if it was a good -

"All right," The other suddenly said, "Since I've got nothing better to do this morning, might as well," Another sip of the almost forgotten drink in her hand and she was content, "But you better not do anything funny or I swear I'll kill you with my own two hands."

Two steps he took forward and several more until he moved past her, relaxation flowing through his veins, "Warning noted. Now then, follow me...?" Unsurprisingly, name was forgotten.

"Rukia, Kuchiki Rukia."

"Rukia, huh?" The name rolled off his tongue, oddly naturally even. But pushing that detail aside, it was only right if he was to introduce himself also.

"I am Kurosaki Ichigo."


	3. Then There Was You, So Randomly Too

**A/N:** Can you believe that it took me two years to update? I can. And I should apologise for it. Honestly, this story was on the verge of just being trashed and never looked back on ever again; especially after what we got with that damned ending. But anyway, it's no lie that at some point during this story's hiatus, I actually did miss writing it, more so the plot that I have in mind for it. Now the thing is, I can't promise frequent updates (like c'mon guys, took me two years to post the third chapter HAHAHAHAHAHAHA), but I CAN promise that I'll at least try to squeeze out another four updates before I disappear for who knows how long. Or even more than four chapters, we'll see how we go. Nevertheless, I present to you the chapter that took way too long to write! Hope you guys enjoy!

* * *

He took her to a garden; a place that held such aspect of simplicity, and yet with the morning light hitting it just right, the essence of fantasy did more than take her breath away. Spring was woven all around them, with the flowers blooming and pink petals falling onto their path. It was peaceful, perfect equilibrium through and through, even as the sound of the running stream reached their ears. The air was also almost different- or it could just have been her mind playing tricks on her, she could not say - fresher than the outside world. She loved it there. It was secluded, not a soul seen nor heard. It was like a whole secret hidden by nature itself, found by those who truly searched to their wits' end. The imagery of it all was so vivid within her mind, she could have almost felt herself in the centre of garden with her eyes closed. And that was how time passed her by; quiet, lost, and alone as she was sat before her desk, work quite forgotten all the while.

She sighed.

Willing herself to finally open her eyes, what met Rukia were not the flowers, trees, or the birds that she longed for. Rather, a raw picture was wide on her monitor, waiting to be edited.

Right, her job. Something to which she had chosen to ignored for the past few hours.

Another sigh.

Unmotivated, uninspired, Rukia sat there in silence, the tablet's pen loose in her grip. She rested her cheek on top of her other palm, elbow perched on the edge of the desk as she stared at the shot.

It was a portrait taken at a slightly lower angle on the side, the model standing close behind a tall, chain-linked fence. The blue of her irises were bright with the setting sun's light, a hint of a smile visible with the way her lips were curved. Moreover, the blurred chains of the fence formed patterns of shadows across her features, her set gaze directed towards the viewer; as if saying _bow down to the queen_.

An image of dominance, conveying the concept of no shit taken nor needed. It was what they had asked from her, and it was what she had just delivered.

Though of course, the photo itself was far from being a finished product. There were still a few remaining touches needed, she just couldn't quite figure them out.

Rukia stared at the colours and tones that were used, and she was fine with them. She moved onto the contrast levels, the shadows and the highlights, and again, no complaints. For the next fifteen minutes, her attention shifted from detail to detail, searching for anything that would have satisfied that annoying feeling in her mind. It was constantly telling her that there was something missing, something that she was meant to change or fix.

An element that she couldn't see.

She hated that feeling so much.

Leaning back into her seat in defeat and frustration, the wheels rolled her away from her workstation. The photographer focused on the high ceiling above her, waiting for inspiration to strike. But once she knew that it wasn't going to happen, she closed her eyes and just _breathed_.

Through her apartment's opened windows, the city's noise reached her from below. She delved into the soothing sound of cars driving by, of a helicopter flying in a distance. She was embraced by the night's warmth, the air tickling her skin. She relaxed herself, all pretense from stress leaving her body right there and then.

Her thoughts were silent, her entire being calm as her chest rose and fell. At that rate, she could have fallen asleep, and would have if her phone hadn't rang. Eyes shot open, the moment of peace broken by a call that was very much unneeded. Nevertheless, she pulled herself back to her desk and grabbed the phone, glancing at the caller ID with contempt before sliding across the screen to answer.

"Do you realise what time it is?" She started, her voice low and eerily threatening.

" _Mm, time for me get food,_ " The other responded, completely disregarding the annoyance that he had just heard, " _I just finished my shift and I don't feel like eating at home. What are you doing?_ "

Somehow- just _somehow_ \- the man's voice was as soothing as the cityscape, even through the phone. As irritated as she was for having been pulled away from the abyss of sleep, Rukia couldn't help but loosen a bit as she listened to him speak; a quiet breath released.

"Working." It wasn't a complete lie, considering how that was exactly what she was supposed to be doing.

" _Really?_ "

". . . Yes."

It was suddenly quiet on the other end of the line, until Rukia could have sworn that he chuckled, " _Alright, then. Well, I'm about to leave the hospital now to buy dinner_."

"Ichigo, did you really call at 8 P.M just to tell me this?"

" _No, I called to see whether you wanted to eat dinner with me. But since you're busy-_ "

"Where are we having dinner?" Rukia heard herself cut in without a thought. She could have said that she was surprised at doing so, not understanding as to why there was a form of excitement that started to buzz within her. Sure, he called to invite her out for dinner, though it wasn't like it was anything out of the ordinary, right?

They already had a morning walk with coffee together, so what was dinner?

It was just two people eating dinner, no biggie.

" _Meguro. I'm in the mood for tonkatsu, so heard of Tonki?_ " Ichigo answered as she heard a door closing from his end. She presumed that he got into his car.

She had been told of the place, just had not necessarily eaten there. Last she remembered, Rangiku described the restaurant as great, with the menu being somewhere in between of delicious and simple. However, she also knew that in judgement of the restaurant's popularity, the chances of them having to line up in a queue were high. Plus, did she really feel like eating there?

"I've heard of Tonki, yes," she said, "But I don't know, Ichigo, I kind of feel like eating McDonald's."

" _McDonald's for dinner? Really, Rukia?_ "

At his reaction, the woman in question couldn't stop the smile that pulled at her lips. She spun her chair around, gaze up on the ceiling as she shrugged. "Why not? It's basic and I haven't had a burger in a while."

" _Fine, you can buy your burger and then meet me at Tonki._ "

"And what? Watch you eat your tonkatsu? I think I'll just buy my burger and then head home straight after."

He was quiet again, and Rukia found herself waiting for a response. She continued to spin around, tapping her fingers against the armrest. She knew that he was thinking, although about _what_ was the actual question.

" _You're really adamant about that burger of yours, aren't you?_ "

Rukia grinned, "As adamant as you are about your tonkatsu."

It were moments like this when she forgot that she had only actually known him for no more than a two weeks.

* * *

About an hour and a half later, the two of them were sitting on a table in the endless rush of a McDonald's branch, with Rukia sipping happily on her glass of earl grey ice-tea. She watched as Ichigo took his time on eating his wrap, a knowing twinkle in her stare. There he was, professionally dressed as he ate in front of her, after he had tried to convince her to eat tonkatsu for dinner.

Ha! Iconic!

"How long are you planning to stare at me like that." And there it was, his trademark scowl.

Rukia peered at him, playfully at that as a smile made itself known. She had only known him for a short two weeks, but her comfortability said otherwise.

"Don't feel so bad, Ichigo," She began, "You're enjoying your wrap, aren't you? And you also have my company, so aren't you lucky?"

She saw him contemplate her words, knew that he didn't want to admit to relenting earlier on. The boy-like scowl didn't leave his face, even as he took a bite of his meal and visibly enjoyed it. He may not have said it, but one's eyes could only ever actually hold so much hidden.

"So, why did you call me out tonight?" Rukia asked amidst the white noise of others' chatter. She was relaxed in her seat, playing with the straw of her drink by flicking the end. There was pure curiosity in her tone, an indication that she had been itching to let the question out. And although she was slightly expecting for him to be caught off-guard, Ichigo merely looked up from his wrap and blinked.

"I don't know," He said, "Just thought that you'd need time away from whatever you were doing."

Confused as she was, Rukia tilted her head, a crease appearing between her brows, "What made you think that?"

"Because every time you messaged me during this past week, you've been saying that you have no inspiration and that you were doing nothing but staring at your screen. Besides, I thought some company would be good, so yeah." He spoke casually, mixed in together with something akin to familiarity. Rukia was astounded that he even managed to pick the point up, albeit not realising it herself. Did they really talk to each other often enough for him to notice her small problem?

"I see." Was her response, her smile diminishing as it was replaced by uncertainty. It was, however, not towards Ichigo, although more for the question that came to mind.

But with the doctor being the doctor, he noticed the change in her expression as well, and said, "Don't give me that look. If you didn't want to come, you could have just said so." His intonation was lighthearted, a reflection of his own gentle smile.

Rukia soon felt herself at ease, relieved by the words that came from the doctor. Then when she opened her mouth to speak, to say something along the lines of appreciation, Ichigo continued on.

"Besides, I could have gotten my tonkatsu if it weren't for you." He finished off, before chewing on a piece of the wrap.

Of course, she should have expected for him to say that.

Not being able to bite down the growing smile that came to be, the smile that mirrored the one in front of her, Rukia simply shook her head and fell back into comfortable silence as she, too, decided to finish her meal.

It was tranquil between them after that, enjoying each other's company, accompanied by a few questions here and there.

 _How was your day?_

 _Was work busy?_

 _And what about the patients, how were they?_

 _Today's clients didn't give you any problems, right?_

Conversation flew by without a hitch, and it was that aspect that Rukia found herself savouring. There was no air of awkwardness, their small talk just enough that it didn't overwhelm her as it would have with others. They spoke like old friends, just with the same level of interest that strangers would have during first meetings. It was an equal amount of give and take from both sides, and Rukia was actually _enjoying_ it.

In fact, they were so in tune with one another that her actions became instinctive.

"Wait, so let me get this straight: your brother is a lawyer who wanted you to follow his footsteps, so that you could have taken over the family firm when the time comes?" She heard him ask. However, her attention had been set elsewhere.

Rukia motioned for him to lean forward, and naturally, he did. She then reached out and using the pad of her thumb, wiped the sauce off from the edging line of his bottom lip.

"There we go. Can't exactly have you walking around with evidence of you enjoying your wrap from McDonald's now, can we?" using a napkin to clean her thumb, she missed the dumbfounded expression etched across Ichigo's face.

He didn't move an inch since the initial contact. His brown eyes were wide, intently focused on her. Yet, she paid them no heed. She also didn't know how heavy his chest became, how loud the beating of his heart was in his ears, and how he faltered to confusion due to that single second.

What… happened?

Time seemingly slowed down around him, everything else a blur apart from her. His body froze, his pupils dilating - that much he knew. The hairs on his skin stood, and yet there was an overwhelming amount of warmth that had blanketed over him. He was staring, he knew that he was staring as he couldn't bring himself to move his attention elsewhere. She was there, nonchalantly going as she normally did. And he was bewildered, confused with the way he was reacting to nothing more than an act of kindness. It was no lie that Ichigo was caught in captivation.

"But yes, that's pretty much the story. Thing is, even though I'm not directly related to him, I'm the only one who he can actually trust with the responsibility," Rukia said, still oblivious to the gaping man, "Not that I can be angry with him or anything. Well, apart from the fact that he sometimes still tries to control my life, but I guess it's just because he's afraid of me tarnishing the family name."

It were a few seconds later when Ichigo finally regained his composure and gradually sat back down onto his seat. He tried to nod along, cleared his throat, and cleared his head in hopes of organising his thoughts. It was a simple matter, and he was not about to make a big deal of it. Not at all.

Unbeknownst to him, the tips of his ears had turned red.

"Right," He said, "You know, you're kind of making it sound like you're a princess or something."

Rukia looked at him with a raised brow, "What if I am?"

"Are you?"

"I can neither confirm nor deny that. Who knows, you might end up running your mouth off and someone's bound to tell the paparazzi that there's a princess around town."

Ichigo snorted in disbelief at Rukia's response. She really was strange; he came to that conclusion during their walk through the garden two weeks ago. With her gushing about nothing but Chappy for fifteen minutes straight, it took a lot of him to not walk away until she stopped. But all in all, she was… interesting. Different to those he knew, and though he understood that there was nothing extremely special about her (because as if he was going to believe that entire _royalty shenanigans_ ), there was something about her that he couldn't exactly pinpoint. Left at that, she was Rukia, and for whatever reason unknown to him, he was content with it.

"Any other plans in mind for tonight?" Rukia asked next.

Swallowing the final bit of his salad wrap, Ichigo shook his head. "Nah, you?"

"Was supposed to have a girls' night, but backed out last minute." She said.

"Should I ask why?"

Rukia lifted a shoulder, amused by the curiosity heard in the lilt of his voice. She threw him a small smile, a glint in her indigo eyes as she replied, "I just didn't feel like it."

"But you're here." Ichigo remarked.

"This… this is different."

When the doctor looked at her with a bemused gaze, Rukia sighed and crossed her arms against her torso, leaning back into the backrest of her seat.

"I wasn't in the mood to go clubbing. And knowing my friends, I'd have to deal with their sorry asses by the end of the night, and I felt like I needed time to myself, instead of whatever it is that one does at a club." As short as the explanation it, it was nothing less than truthful.

"Right, so instead of having wine and drinks, you'd rather settle for a happy meal at McDonald's." Ichigo said.

"Would've been great if _it_ were a happy meal, but alas, you only bought me a burger." She retorted.

Ichigo tried his best to at least look a little bit innocent in that case, "I'm pretty sure I asked you whether you wanted a toy-"

"Shut up."

A smirk and a concise response, "Yes, ma'am."

* * *

At the end of dinner, the two had split ways in note of the late night. Had it been a weekend, Ichigo would have wandered around the city a bit more; most likely sharing life stories with his earlier companion, had she agreed to stay for a little while longer. But in the comforts of his own home, the man pulled on his necktie and unbuttoned the first three buttons of his dress shirt, a heavy breath leaving him. There was a sudden appearance of overwhelming tiredness on his shoulders, weighing in on him the instant he had set foot through the front door.

As tempting as it was to drop dead onto the leather couch, his body was aching for a hot shower.

He walked past the open space of the apartment's living room, purposefully not glancing at it, in case he were to cave in and sleep into a new day. And as he dragged his feet across the wooden flooring, trudging his way through his home, Ichigo's mind decided to settle for that night's events- how normal it had been, despite of it being different to his everyday routine.

He thought of Rukia, how open her character was around him; as if there was no wall in between them. Weirdly enough, he had known her for far less than those he worked with, and yet it was safe for him to assume that she knew him better than they did. Around her, he found that he was able to be himself, whoever that was. He didn't need to hold back with his smart remarks, and even so, she managed to make comebacks that didn't leave a bitter feeling in him.

Around Rukia, he was able to let go of Dr. Kurosaki and simply become Kurosaki Ichigo, the boy from the small city known as Karakura Town.

He liked it. Or if anything, he appreciated it.

He didn't need to uphold any professionalism. It was what he did at first, only to have the photographer laugh at him and brush it off.

It's not that she 'didn't like it', she said, but more of how it 'felt wrong coming from him'.

He chuckled inwardly at the memory as he entered his bedroom, setting his suitcase on the chair next to the door.

In the dark, the room was nothing extravagant, except for the floor-to-ceiling window that covered the entire end, giving away a grand view of the awakened city. To the centre, was the bed, its headboard connected to the wall adjacent to the window, whilst his walk-in closet was built on the opposite end. And the door directly across from Ichigo's entrance, led to a bathroom that he was actually quite fond of.

It wasn't too big, nor too small. The shower head was perfect for his height, and even with its wet floor design, the tiling had fit his tastes perfectly.

It really was nice bathroom.

Falling into the soft, cotton sheets of his bed, face first as one often did when they were ready to avoid their problems, Ichigo inhaled and closed his eyes for a moment's while. He was tired, _so_ tired that he could have fallen asleep had his mind not reminded him of the shower that he needed to take. He groaned at the thought and rolled over onto his back, only to feel the vibration of his phone in his pants' pocket. He fished it out, and squinted at the blaring light of the screen until his vision came to focus at the message received.

 _Got home safe_. Said the first one.

 _Thanks again_. Came after.

Ichigo didn't even need to look at the sender's name to know who it was, nor did he need to for the smile to tug at his mouth. Upon setting an arm as a pillow beneath his head, he unlocked his phone and typed a reply with a single thumb.

 _Glad to know.  
Your treat next time?_

He didn't have to wait long before the other responded.

 _Next time?  
We'll see._

"We'll see. . .?" Ichigo repeated the words to no one in particular, but there was no way he could have ignored the feeling of peaceful happiness; more so when it was sitting just between his lungs, confined by his ribcage. Chuckling, the tired doctor pulled himself up and stood, throwing his phone onto the bed. He ran his hand through his mess of a hair, and contented, made his way to the bathroom.

The screen lit up again, alerting of a new message received.

* * *

He stood under the warm spray of the shower for a good twenty minutes, his muscles loosening and the aches disappearing. Truth be told, he spent most of the time pondering about whatever situation needed to be sorted, rather than doing any actual cleaning. Still, it didn't take long for him to scrub as much grime, dirt, and sweat as he possibly could have.

Barefooted, he walked through the apartment, his knit joggers sitting threateningly low on his hips. He also opted for the lack of a shirt, reasoning that it was too warm to wear one, and that he was bound to take it off in his sleep. It were the little things like those that made life easier in a way; decisions made without too much thinking or expectation of consequences. Moreover, he was living alone, so it wasn't like he was committing a crime by walking around shirtless.

The lights were dimmed down, albeit bright enough for him to navigate past the furniture and corners. Gentle music echoed throughout the space from the speakers in the living room, the tune of piano keys calming him as he found his way to the kitchen next to it. He had turned it on when he arrived- out of habit more than anything, really. Because, again, he was alone in a big place, and there was something about music that made him feel less… isolated.

Arriving at the kitchen, Ichigo got a glass from the dryer and poured himself a cold drink from the fridge. He soothed the thirst of his dry throat, a breath of satisfaction leaving him straight after. He rolled his neck, and tilted his head from side to side, knowing that he couldn't feel any better than he did then. To describe him, he was utterly filled with naught but a state of calmness and contentment.

He had tended to his patients earlier in the day, and finished his rounds as he expected himself to. The children were looking much better than they did when they were first admitted, and fortunately enough, they had taken a liking to him; letting him in on their little secrets, and stories, and worlds that were often kept hidden. Their smiles were as bright as the sun that shone through the windows, and their parents were more than happy to trust in him. And as a doctor, those were enough to keep him going.

There was also the dinner. Originally, Ichigo didn't plan to have a salad wrap from McDonald's, but what right did he have to complain in consideration of who sat across from him?

It was a nice way to end the night, he admitted that much. He was able to leave the character of a doctor behind in his office for a while, and merely laughed as he did all those years ago. Hell, he wasn't even sure when he had last enjoyed another's company. It was a nice change of pace for once, and he was glad that he made the phone call after minutes of pure hesitation.

The buzz of a doorbell and Ichigo was instantly pulled out of his reverie. He glanced at the digital clock embedded on the fridge, _**2337**_ staring at him boldly and in its ominous colour of red. He frowned, brows furrowed together in wonder as to who was insane enough to drop by at this hour of the night.

A weeknight, nonetheless.

In resignation, he made his way to the front door; his bare torso forgotten much to his repose. He called out, telling them to hang on. And without even looking through the peephole, or even the monitor near the entrance, he turned the doorknob and pulled it open.

Who stood on the other side was no one in particular- correction, she _was_ somebody, just not one whom he was expecting.

Her surprised gaze met his, her posture straightening the second she saw him. And uncontrollably, Ichigo's heart was quiet.

"A-ah, Kurosaki-Kun…!"

* * *

 **A/N:** Feel free to leave a review as a form of support to let me know to keep this thing going! Please?


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